


The Haven University Musical

by ruthmakesstuff (orphan_account)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Musicals, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4541664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ruthmakesstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a breakup with his girlfriend, Kaleb Trevelyan pursues his ambition of putting on a musical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Casually changes 'The Kirkwall University Musical' to 'The Haven University Musical'. Oops.]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaleb Trevelyan suffers a breakup, casts a musical, and gets drunk with an intriguing man.

“I love you,” she said.

“I know,” he replied.

Kaleb Trevelyan and his girlfriend lay together on the bed in his dorm room at the University of Haven. The room was sparsely decorated, with a pinboard on the wall above his desk covered in official letters from the university and photographs from back home. There were one single picture of her on there, after an argument they’d had where she accused him of being ashamed of her.

If he was honest, it wasn’t that he was ashamed - he just didn’t think of her. It didn’t occur to him to put a picture of her up there, because she didn’t really occur to him that she existed outside of the time they spent together. This had been another cause of argument, on frequent occasions.

She leaned over to kiss him, and he half-heartedly kissed her back, thinking about other things.

She pulled back rapidly.

“Do you even want me here?” she snapped, shocking Kaleb.

“Of course I do!” he said, with an earnestness that didn’t match how he felt. He was a people-pleaser at heart, even if it meant lying to people - and to himself.

“You know, I don’t think you do,” she said. She was very pretty, most of the time. She had delicate features, and cropped brown hair, and even though she dressed in a more masculine manner than most women, preferring button-ups and trousers to v-necks and dresses, it was attractive on her. At least, when she wasn’t angry - when she screwed her features up into a frown, the delicacy was gone, and there was a frightening ferocity there instead. That was how she looked at Kaleb just then. “Frankly, I don’t think you’ve ever wanted me here. What even am I to you?”

“You’re my girlfriend,” Kaleb said, pathetically, not knowing what else he could possibly say. It wasn’t the answer she looked for, though - ‘the woman I love’, or ‘the world to me’ would have done him better.

“Well, I’m not anymore,” his now ex-girlfriend replied. “I’ll see myself out.”

She tore her photo down from the pinboard as she left, slamming the door on her way out.

Kaleb gave an exasperated sigh, and that was the full extent of his emotional response. She was right - he didn’t want her there.

She’d left a gap in his pinboard when she left, and he went to look at it. There was something he’d pinned up there as a reminder to look at it another time, but he had never got around to it: an advertisement for a producer for the Musical Theatre Society’s Autumn play. He had some theatrical experience, being part of a troupe when he was younger, and it looked interesting.

Maybe this would be the distraction he needed. He copied down the contact details from the advert and opened his laptop to apply for the position.

 

* * *

 

 

Kaleb was surprised when he checked his emails to find that he’d been accepted for the position of producer. The play was to be Les Miserables, which he’d been in a few productions of when he was younger. An odd choice for an under-18s troupe, but it became one of his favourite plays, and he was very excited to be able to produce it.

The only snag was that the university didn’t have its own theatre - Haven was a small place, with a small campus, and there was only one theatre in the whole city, ostentatiously named The House of Pavus, owned by the similarly ostentatious Pavus family.

Sitting on his bed, he rang the contact number listed on the website, keeping his fingers crossed that they were more amenable than their public image suggested they would be.

“Hello, my name is Kaleb Trevelyan, and I’m producing a play for the University of Haven? I’d like to speak to someone about renting the theatre,” he said, as he’d practised beforehand.

They spoke for a while, and Kaleb thought that the whole process was going too easily - the rent costs were cheap, the dates were available, and they’d even allow them the space to rehearse in for free. He’d been anticipating that they’d have to rehearse in empty lecture theatres, which would have given them very limited space and no concept of performing on the stage of the size they were given.

The snag soon came, however: “Our son is a student at the University of Kirkwall, and we’d like you to cast him in your play,” Mr Pavus said.

Kaleb hesitated. “Is he a Drama student, then?” he asked, hoping for a positive answer.

“No. He studies History,” Mr Pavus replied, as if it were a stupid question for Kaleb to have asked.

“Right. Okay. I’ll see what I can do,” Kaleb said.

“It’s not a matter of ‘seeing what you can do’, Mr Trevelyan. This is our only offer.”

Kaleb made a snap decision - it was the only choice he had. “I see. Thank-you very much, then, Mr Pavus, I look forward to using your theatre.”

 

* * *

 

 

The day of the auditions arrived, and he couldn’t help crossing his fingers in the hope that the theatre owner’s son - whose name was Dorian - would decide against wanting a role in the play. The whole thing had a shifty air, like he’d made a deal with the devil. He hadn’t told anybody about the condition that had been placed, and he hoped that it would stay that way.

Those who were auditioning came and went, and it was easy to see for some who belonged in which roles. There was a young Italian girl called Josephine who had the sweetest voice, and could only be a Cosette. She wasn’t a conventional Cosette, not being waif-like and blonde, but she was the loveliest soprano Kaleb had heard that day. Another girl, called Sera, was destined to be Madame Thénardier - she had an excellent stage presence, and perfect comedic timing.

Other positions were harder to place, and Kaleb was going over his notebook when someone walked on to the stage.

“Dreadfully sorry I’m late,” he said, with a grin. “Dorian Pavus.”

“We’re actually finished auditioning,” said Varric, the director, apologetically.

“But we can make an exception just this once,” Kaleb rushed to add.

Varric looked at him, and Kaleb pulled a ‘not now’ face at him.

“Of course,” Varric amended, smoothly.

The acting part of the audition went beautifully, and Kaleb knew the pact he’d made with the man’s parents would turn out for the best. He was charismatic, witty and confident, and Kaleb could see him cast in a number of roles, depending on his vocal range.

“I would now like to sing ‘I Feel Pretty’, from West Side Story,” Dorian said. He had a rich, deep speaking voice, and Varric and Kaleb exchanged a look. What on earth was about to happen?

Dorian opened his mouth, and Kaleb was suddenly glad that the other people auditioning had already left. It would have been cruel to put anyone more than himself and Varric through the suffering that was listening to this man sing. He was completely tone deaf, switching keys between lines, going down octaves when the song became too high for him, and switching back up again when he could manage. It was utter vocal pandemonium.

“Excellent, thank-you,” Varric said once he’d finished, while Kaleb was still too stunned to speak. “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

Dorian walked off the stage, looking entirely unabashed.

“Well, _somebody’s_ not getting a part,” Varric said, with a chuckle. “Lord, Trevelyan, have you ever heard a voice like that before?”

“No,” Kaleb admitted. He struggled to remember a more awkward position he’d ever been in. Dorian had to be cast, or they’d lose the venue for the play. Then he had a moment of genius. “Monsieur Thénardier! He doesn’t really sing, properly, and he’s got the wit down perfectly.”

“I see your point,” Varric said, slowly, “but there are other people that would suit that role, too.”

“No, it’s got to be him. I’m the producer, I get final say,” Kaleb said.

“You two doing the horizontal tango or something, kid?” Varric asked, perplexed at Kaleb’s insistence.

“What? No! Why would you even say that?” Kaleb sputtered.

Varric laughed. “Calm down,” he said. “He can have the part, if it means that much to you. At least this way we don’t have to get him a comedy moustache.”

It was true - Dorian sported his own moustache, which twirled up at the edges.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kaleb packed up his notebook into his bag, and left the theatre after exchanging goodbyes with Varric and promising to meet up soon to cast the remaining parts.

On leaving the theatre, Kaleb was surprised to find Dorian outside by the exit, apparently waiting for him.

“Kaleb, isn’t it?” Dorian asked.

“The one and only,” Kaleb replied.

“Care to come for a drink with me?” Dorian asked.

“If you’re trying to buy your way into a part, it doesn’t work like that,” Kaleb joked, despite knowing that in Dorian’s case that was, in fact, exactly the way it worked. He didn’t actually know if Dorian knew that his parents had bought him the part or not, but he wasn’t exactly in a position where he could ask.

“No, no, not at all. Let me be friendly?” Dorian said.

It wasn’t the worst idea, Kaleb supposed, so he went with Dorian to get drinks.

 

* * *

 

 

The Hanged Man was a cheap bar on campus - a bit grotty, near the cheaper accommodation blocks, but okay to just sit and drink in.

Despite his large build, Kaleb was quite affected by alcohol, though not in the most conventional of ways. His drunkenness increased logarithmically he was sure – levels gradually increasing before suddenly shooting off into the sky.

They’d been talking a while about nothing in particular when the one thing they had in common with each other came up.

“So, how’d you get into theatre?” Kaleb asked.

“Well, it’s a funny story – I haven’t, really. This is the first show I’ve auditioned for. I know you can’t tell me – you probably haven’t even discussed it yet – but-”

Kaleb grinned at him, and gave an imperceptible nod. He loved giving people good news.

“Oh, really? This is brilliant!” Dorian said, throwing an arm around Kaleb that felt quite comfortable. “But no, I um, my mum recommended that I do this play. I’ve always loved the _idea_ of acting, but never actually thrown myself into it before. I was actually so nervous about the audition, I had to drum up some Dutch courage beforehand.”

So Dorian didn’t know about his dad’s involvement in him getting the part, then. He suddenly felt sorry for him – it was one thing if he was a cad using his father’s position, but it was another if he was entirely oblivious to the manipulation involved.

“So how’d you get into producing?” Dorian asked, looking at him intently.

Dorian wasn’t bad looking, objectively. He had a fine face, and the undercut hairstyle emphasised his bone structure. Even the moustache didn’t look too bad on him, where it would have looked foolish on anybody else. One could go so far as to say he was even handsome.

“Well actually my mum recommended it – no, I’m kidding. I used to do local theatre when I was younger, and one thing led to another, I guess?” Thinking of parents, he remembered the conversation he’d had with Mr Pavus and said, “So your dad tells me you’re a historian?”

“You’ve been talking about me with my dad?” Dorian asked, fixing Kaleb with a look he couldn’t quite interpret.

“Well, I mean-” but he got cut off by a wave of nausea. The combination of drinks and guilt had suddenly got to him. “’scuse me,” he said, before bolting with a wobble to the nearest bathroom.

“My dad,” Dorian continued upon Kaleb’s return as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “my dad won’t _accept_ me. Uni’s been a fucking blessing, else I’d still be living in that house surrounded by ‘but you could be straight if you really loved your family, Dorian’ all day every day.” He exhaled sharply. “Why were we talking about my dad?” The alcohol had obviously gone to Dorian’s brain, too.

“Um, I don’t remember,” Kaleb lied, glad that he’d forgotten. “I, uh, have to go. Threw up, got to go home and brush my teeth, you know?”

“You’re a lightweight and I hate you,” Dorian said, mock huffily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaleb Trevelyan is horribly hungover, hangs out with Leliana and Blackwall, then has Pizza and Netflix with Dorian. (No, really.)

The next morning, Kaleb felt incredibly rough. It took him a minute to place why. He’d gone out drinking the night before with… Dorian? Dorian. Dorian Pavus who couldn’t sing. Dorian Pavus with the nice haircut. That Dorian.

He’d been trying to keep up with Dorian’s drinking, who was on pretty strong whiskeys. Kaleb, on the other hand, was on cider, and still managed to end up the more drunk of the two.

He had the taste of acid on his tongue - he’d crawled straight into bed when he got back to his dorm room, ignoring the fact that he’d really needed to brush his teeth. He was a terrible drunk, and he was regretting every single one of his life choices that head led him to this moment, head pounding and eyes bleary.

He got up, brushed his teeth finally and downed a pint of water with two paracetamol - the hangover cure was best administered _before_ one goes to sleep, but it was better late than never, he supposed.

He opened his laptop to check his emails, and found one from Varric who had apparently had a similar night out.

“Hanging like hell, can’t meet up today. Attached notes on who I think should be cast where - annotate and send back?”

Skimming through the attached notes, Kaleb was relieved to see that he and Varric were pretty much unanimously agreed on most of the casting choices, and Kaleb was happy to defer to Varric in the cases where they didn’t. There was a small italicised “ _(why)_ ” next to Dorian as Monsieur Thénardier, along with a suggested understudy who frankly was a better fit for the part. Kaleb couldn’t let Varric know that he’d been manipulated though, it would have made him look bad. As it was, everyone was impressed with him for getting such a good deal with the venue, and he couldn’t let on why that was.

He also had a second email, this time from Dorian, dated 2am from the night before. If Kaleb had been sending drunken emails at 2am, they would have been riddled with typing errors, but Dorian’s email was meticulously typed - if a little nonsensically written.

“Took your email off the audition form - hope you don’t mind. Have you ever thought about tic tacs? They smell sweet, but they taste like minty fire. It was nice spending time with you tonight. You’re nice. You’re a nice man. Let’s do something tomorrow. Not drinks. Come to my dorm, we’ll watch Netflix. Get pizza? Yeah? Yeah.”

Kaleb realised that ‘tomorrow’ probably meant today, but he already had plans. He also wasn’t entirely sure if Dorian would still want the two of them to hang out once sober - the email might have come from the place of “you’re my best friend and I love you” that seems to warm the hearts of drunk men. Pizza and Netflix did sound appealing though. He’d email him back later, once Dorian had had time to send a sober retraction. 

Just as he was leaving the room he realised that Dorian might actually be waiting on a response. It would be rude to wait until later. He shot him a quick email on his phone - “not today, tomorrow, if you’re still up to it? hope you’re not hanging too badly.” He felt foolish for responding to the whims of a drunk man from the night before - Dorian might regret it come the morning, and that just left Kaleb looking eager. Better to look eager though, he thought, than to be rude.

* * *

As Kaleb got to the cafe he was meeting his friends at, he was pleased to see that they were already there at their usual table, and they’d already ordered one of the large bowls of chips to share. He sat down and was surrounded with sympathetic faces.

“Do you guys know something I don’t?” he joked. “Am I dying?”

“We heard you broke up with your girlfriend,” Blackwall said. Everyone knew Blackwall by his surname - there were quite a few people in the world who didn’t even know what his first name was, and that was the way he liked it. This did lead to rumours that he had an embarrassingly silly first name, but he always brushed them off. Blackwall was unflappable.

“I - how did you hear that?” Kaleb asked, perplexed.

“I know some people,” Leliana said, vaguely. Kaleb realised he was surprised not to have seen her at the auditions - she had a lovely singing voice, and frequently had solos for the Kirkwall University Choral Society. Perhaps musical theatre wasn’t her thing.

“I mean, yeah, we did break up, but I’m not torn up about it,” Kaleb said.

“Ouch,” laughed Blackwall. “I’m guessing you did the dumping, then.”

“As always,” Leliana chipped in.

“Hang on, what’s that supposed to mean?” Kaleb asked, taking a chip.

“Well, it’s no secret that you always break up with your girlfriends at, ooh, the four-month mark?” Leliana said.

“In fairness, she actually broke up with me,” Kaleb said.

“So you’re just not torn up about it because you’re a heartless bastard?” Blackwall suggested.

“Harsh!” Kaleb said, throwing a chip at Blackwall.

“Anyway, where were you last night?” Blackwall asked. “Varric and I went out drinking. We called you, but you didn’t answer.”

“Huh, I didn’t notice. My phone must’ve been on silent. I was out drinking too, actually. This guy called Dorian?” He checked his phone, reflexively, and found that he did in fact have a missed call from Blackwall - and an email from Dorian, which he would have to check later.

“Pavus?” Leliana asked. “I know him, from the LGBT Society. He’s a bit of a heartbreaker too, all things told. He never seems to be seeing the same man two meetings in a row.”

“I’m not a heartbreaker, Leliana,” Kaleb protested. “But yeah, Pavus.”

“Great moustache,” Leliana giggled.

“Hey, I like his moustache,” Kaleb said, coming to Dorian’s defense.

Blackwall waggled his eyebrows at him, and got another chip thrown for his efforts.

They talked for a while longer about things unrelated to Kaleb’s relationship status, which he was grateful for - Blackwall’s position as a Grey Warden for one. They were an organisation that helped people home after nights out - giving flip flops to girls who couldn’t walk in their heels, and breaking up fights. They were also all, coincidentally, bikers. It had become an unofficial condition on joining the organisation that you also had to join the biker gang. It suited Blackwall - he was a big, burly guy, with a big, burly beard, but he always meant well, and was chivalrous with the ladies.

Leliana also talked very seriously about trying to reform the Christian Union. Too much proselytising, she said, and not enough interaction with the more charitable unions and societies. They needed to spend less time trying to convert people with pizza bribes and more time going out and demonstrating what good Christianity actually looked like. It was something that she felt very strongly about, and Kaleb respected her for it. He wasn’t really one to go out and make waves - he was the peacekeeper, the one who smoothed things over. She made him wonder if maybe that wasn’t the best way to be. 

They parted ways, and Kaleb checked his email from Dorian.

“Gentleman don’t ‘hang’. Pizza and Netflix, my treat, tomorrow at 6,” it read, signing off with the address for his dorm room. Kaleb wasn’t surprised to find that he lived in the fancier accommodation available on campus, next to the library. He headed home.

* * *

The next day, Dorian greeted Kaleb at the door to his accommodation block with a winning smile that made his moustache curl up at the edges. Kaleb immediately felt under-dressed - Dorian was wearing a smart blue button-up shirt and a waistcoat, and Kaleb was wearing a faded t-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie. He wondered if Dorian was going somewhere after they’d finished hanging out that he’d dressed up so nicely for.

“So, any plans for the day?” he asked, politely.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we _were_ planning to watch Netflix and eat pizza, or are you really hanging that badly?” Dorian said.

“Oh, no, I remembered. I just thought you were dressed up very nicely,” Kaleb said. “You look nice,” he added, unnecessarily.

“Well, I make the effort. Thank-you, though,” Dorian said, gesturing towards the stairwell up to his room.

Dorian’s accommodation was a lot more _plush_ than Kaleb’s was - there was a comfortable looking chair in front of a real wooden desk, instead of the plastic spinning chair and cheap pretend wood desk supplied in Kaleb’s room. It was also about twice as large, with room for an armchair next to a well-stocked bookcase.

“Are these all yours?” Kaleb asked, looking at the bookcase.

“Yes, they are,” Dorian said.

“That… must’ve been a lot of packing,” Kaleb said. The bookcase was taller than he was, and full to the brim, with books resting on top of it as well.

“I like to read,” Dorian said, obviously. “What do you study, anyway? I never asked.”

“Government and Politics,” Kaleb answered. “It’s less dry than you might think,” he added, in response to the face Dorian made.

“I can hardly judge,” Dorian said. “I study History, and while I find it fascinating, I know that many people do not. I mean, they’re fools if you ask me, but each to his own.”

Kaleb looked over to the large desktop computer set up on the desk. It was already running, and there was a video game playing.

“Skyrim? You play Skyrim, and still have time to go to lectures?”

“It’s historical,” justified Dorian, huffily.

“History had _dragons_?” Kaleb teased. “Fus-ro-dah actually a medieval monk chant?”

“You know, if you keep teasing me, I’m not buying us pizza,” Dorian said.

Kaleb widened his eyes at the threat in mock horror. “Woah there buddy, that’s serious talk right there.”

“I’m a very serious man,” Dorian said, in a low voice, which caused something to stir deep inside of Kaleb.

“C’mon,” Kaleb said, grinning, pushing the feeling aside. “Efe’s?” he said, taking off his hoodie and dropping it on the bed. Efe’s was a local, very cheap pizza delivery service.

“Please,” Dorian said. “Dominos or nothing,”

The pizza arrived, and they watched a movie together, settling on a historical fiction that had a lot of dramatic politics for Kaleb, and awful historical accuracy for Dorian, who delighted in pointing out their every mistake. “That bustle is from entirely the wrong era, you know,” he said, on more than one occasion. Kaleb wasn’t sure how it happened, but at some point their legs ended up touching at one point during the movie while they sat on the bed, and neither of them pulled away from the contact.

The movie ended, with the protagonist getting brutally murdered at the end, which neither of them saw coming.

“Well, that was nice,” Kaleb said to Dorian, airily.

“Wasn’t it?” Dorian said, as if he were speaking about something else entirely.

They looked at each other, and Kaleb felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach at the intensity of Dorian’s gaze.

Kaleb ducked his head to run his hand through his fringe, a nervous habit that allowed him to break eye contact with Dorian.

“Yeah, it was,” he said, his voice higher than usual. “Listen, um, this has been nice, but I should be going. Coursework to do, and all that.”

“I understand entirely,” Dorian said. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something else, but he shook his head so subtly that Kaleb didn’t see, and showed him to the exit, putting a hand on the small of his back. Kaleb felt a frisson at the touch, but he didn’t give himself away. He didn’t want to think about what that meant.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the first rehearsal goes well, but is followed by disaster.

The first rehearsal came, and it went better than planned. The mains had all been sent their sheet music ahead of time so they’d have time to practice, and they’d all been very dedicated. Josephine shone out among all of them, already knowing absolutely everything by heart, despite the fact that they had only had a few days to learn so far. Kaleb wondered if she’d already known the music ahead of time, but no, it turned out she was just very keen.

Sera, in contrast, didn’t know all the words, but was so swift with her improvisations that nobody actually noticed, and she got away with it entirely. Nobody noticed except Varric, who was following along with the script and was fairly sure that “piss it” wasn’t anywhere in Madame Thénardier’s solo. He just shook his head, laughing to himself. He wasn’t going to take it away from the girl, she had the spirit of Thénardier, if she didn’t have the words exactly.

Varric asked Kaleb to lead the warmups while he went through the script to add blocking, and Kaleb chose his favourite warmup from his own days in a theatre troup: The Freezeframe Game. Two people would perform a scene, and then an onlooker could shout “freeze” and stop the action, stepping in to replace one person and remaking the scene anew from the same position.

His Grantaire was hilariously crude - Kaleb was fairly sure that he was actively already drunk, and ‘method acting’, because he kept belching between every other line. His singing voice was surprisingly charming, though, and he was perfectly personable when he wasn’t calling everyone around him a ‘pigfucker’.

The man playing Enjolras didn’t take to the exercise at all - he seemed very sincere about his role as a revolutionary, and didn’t seem to entirely understand why Les Miserables involved so much _singing_. He rarely cried for a ‘freeze’, but when he did his scenes were all tragedies, or scenes from ancient mythologies.

His Marius was equally as serious, though his most emotional scene was a heartfelt ‘forbidden lovers’ scene, which seemed to come a little bit _too_ much from the heart. Kaleb silently wondered who it was that he was in love with that he couldn’t have - he was part of the Christian Union, alongside Leliana, so he wondered if he’d fallen for someone of a different religious persuasion. It was a little sad, really.

Eponine was played by Kaleb’s ex-girlfriend, which was more than a little awkward. Varric had been in charge of that casting decision, and he didn’t have the heart to overrule him. The scene she enacted was a violent revenge fantasy, which prompted Varric to give Kaleb a look - the sort of look that says “women, eh?”

Warm-ups done, the rest of the rehearsal went smoothly. It was half day’s rehearsal for the ensemble, but a full day’s for the mains, so by the end of it all Kaleb was exhausted.

As everyone spilled out of the theatre, Dorian came up to him, pulling Kaleb’s hoodie out of his bag. He offered it to him while saying, “here, you left this in my room the other day.” In his hurry to leave, Kaleb had left it behind, but the way Dorian said it made him feel like he was announcing that they’d been in there doing something dirty. He almost wanted to defend himself, but no accusations had actually been made. He was sure that Varric was looking at them, though, knowingly. Not that there was anything _to_ know, but that never stopped Varric from making that face.

Kaleb took the hoodie, while feeling the blood rush to his face. “Thanks,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. He stuffed it in his bag, and left the theatre.

* * *

That evening Kaleb received a text. “Got your number and dorm room from Leliana. We need to talk. Now. I’m outside - Dorian”.

He had no idea what this was about, but it sounded terribly urgent and it made nervous flutters in the pit of his stomach.

He went and collected him from the front of the building, and was met with a stony faced expression. Dorian did not speak until they’d got back into Kaleb’s room, with the door shut behind him.

“Kaleb,” came his first words. “We need to talk.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Kaleb said, jovially, trying to lighten the mood.

“This isn’t the time for jokes,” Dorian said, seriously. “My father bought me my part in the play.”

Fuck. He knew. Kaleb’s mind whirred, but he had no idea how he could possibly defend himself, so he just sat on his bed in dumb silence, staring at the pinboard in front of him.

“Hello? Still present?” Dorian demanded.

Kaleb cleared his throat. “Sorry, yeah.”

“How could you do this to me? Let me make myself look a fool in front of everyone? Would you even have considered me for a part if my father hadn’t manipulated you into it?”

“Of course!” Kaleb lied. “You make an excellent Thénardier!”

“ _Bullshit_ ,” came the reply. “Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear, tell me the damned _truth_.” Dorian was pacing up and down the room, refusing to face Kaleb.

Kaleb prepared another lie, but he couldn’t do it to Dorian. He owed him the truth, as unpleasant as it was.

“Okay,” he admitted. “You weren’t the best person I saw that day.”

“How _could_ you?” Dorian whirled around, sounding more dismayed than angry by now. “I understand when I was just the Pavus son, but we’ve spent time together! Christ, I thought we were friendly, but I imagine you just felt sorry for me. The man so talentless that he has to get his father to buy him into the cast.”

“Dorian, no. I don’t feel sorry for you. I _like_ you.” Kaleb said, looking at him earnestly.

“Have you been having little chats with him, then? Has he been spinning you the tale about how he ‘really loves me’ and ‘just wants us to be close again’ even though he tried to send me to a goddamn conversion camp?” Dorian said.

“Dorian, I promise, there’s been nothing like that. He just told me to give you the part - that’s all,” Kaleb implored.

“How am I even meant to trust you?” Dorian asked.

“I’m so sorry,” Kaleb said, unable to think of anything better. He felt like shit on someone’s shoe. He’d been cowardly, and someone had got hurt, and he felt awful about it. “How did you find out?”

“He got angry at me and let slip. My mother insists we talk at least once a fortnight, and he started going on about how he hadn’t got me a part in the play for me to _not_ have fallen for one of the leading ladies. As far as he’s concerned my lack of attraction to women is just due to lack of exposure - stick me in the female-dominated field that is theatre, and I’d be _bound_ to fall in love. You should have cast me as Marius, then at least I’d have kissed a fucking leading lady,” Dorian said, bitterly. The curse sounded wrong coming from his lips. “We’re not speaking now, of course. And I’m dropping out of the play.”

“You are?” Kaleb asked, upset. It was true that he didn’t think Dorian was the greatest performer, vocally, but he didn’t know if this would mean they wouldn’t be spending any more time together. They’d only spent time together twice outside of the theatre, but Kaleb felt surprisingly close to the man. He didn’t want to contemplate the idea of not seeing him again.

“Of course I am!” Dorian spat. “What, do you expect me to go out there and make a fool of myself now that I know? You’re more than a coward, you’re a fool as well.” The words stung.

“I think you should leave,” Kaleb said, quietly, looking at the floor.

“With pleasure,” Dorian said, storming out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought it could be fun to let you guess who had which part? Hint: Our Grantaire is a cameo from another game


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resolutions, comings out, and secret backstage meetings

That day’s rehearsal was uneventful, but Kaleb was distracted, thinking about his fight with Dorian. He was going to be exhausted by the end of the week’s workshop. Putting on a play like Les Miserables in seven days had been an ambitious project. Dorian’s replacement’s joy didn’t cheer him up the way he had hoped it would, in fact it made him feel worse.

Kaleb waited until the end of the day before texting Dorian. He hoped that things would be less heated by this point, and that they might be able to have a conversation.

He felt so awful about what had passed - he hadn’t been able to sleep, thinking about how bad he must have made Dorian feel. If he’d known about the relationship between Dorian and his father? He’d like to think he’d have thought twice about making the decision that he did, but he couldn’t know for certain. He never would know, that was the horrible problem of hindsight.

He worded and re-worded the text three times before he sent it.

“I’m so sorry about what I did. Do you want to talk about what happened between you and your dad?”

The text was marked as ‘read’ immediately, but it was a good ten minutes before Kaleb received a reply, and he imagined Dorian was staring at his phone, wondering whether or not to forgive him. Or maybe he was busy - it was probably egotistical of Kaleb to assume Dorian cared what he thought at all.

“Alright. Your place or mine?” In any other context the suggestive sounding text would have made Kaleb laugh, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the thought of Dorian. He didn’t realise things between he and his father were so bad.

Kaleb sent a reply that he was going to him, and left his room.

When he got there, Dorian wrapped him in a tearful hug, which surprised Kaleb. It would have been nice, if Dorian wasn’t so obviously upset. Had he been like this all day?

They went upstairs, and after Kaleb closed the door behind them, Dorian sat on his bed with a sigh. Kaleb sat next to him, cautiously.

“You okay?” he asked, not sure what else to say.

Dorian sighed, again, his eyes shining. Kaleb felt a pang of care and sympathy for the man. His own relationship with his parents was never worse than a row over an uncleaned room. He couldn’t imagine having the kind of relationship with his own father that Dorian had with his.

“Yeah, I… I’m sorry about yesterday,” Dorian said.

“It’s okay,” Kaleb said, immediately. “I was an ass, you were allowed to be angry at me.”

“You _were_ an ass,” Dorian agreed, “but you didn’t deserve all of that. I just - I was upset with my father. I’ve never told anyone about the conversion camp thing, you know.”

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Kaleb asked, gently.

Dorian wiped tears away from his eyes and took a deep breath. “He told me I was going to stay with a conservative Christian aunt of his in the US. That was bad enough to start with, but I hoped her home would be a nicer living environment than the one I was already in. But then I found an email he left open on his computer from a gay conversion camp in the same state. It was all a ruse.” He exhaled sharply. “I looked it up, and it was horrific. Hours of therapy a day unpacking your ‘root’, forced Bible study, no media from the outside. I packed up and left, stayed in a hostel for a while until university started, then moved in here. I speak to him on occasion to keep my mother happy, but neither of us are any good for the other. I think this play thing was a mixed motivation to try and change me, and also to try and win my favour. Which was, obviously, unsuccessful.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kaleb said, taking it all in. “I can’t begin to imagine what that must have felt like.”

“No, you can’t,” Dorian said simply. “But it’s alright, now. We’re alright, now?”

“If you want to be,” Kaleb said, carefully.

“I do,” Dorian replied.

Kaleb considered his actions for a moment before putting an arm around Dorian and hugging him close to him. Dorian rested his head on his shoulder, and they stayed in that position talking until it was time for Kaleb to leave.

* * *

“Swing by my room after rehearsals?” Kaleb texted Dorian.

“I’m tired of dorm rooms. Take me out x” Dorian texted back.

That sounded suspiciously like he was asking Kaleb on a date. Or rather, asking Kaleb to ask him on a date.

He’d been in this position before - granted, up until now it was a position he’d exclusively been in with women. Usually though this filled him with dread, and this time he felt… pleased? Excited, even?

He’d worry about the implications later - for now, he was happy to take Dorian out on a date, if that’s what he wanted.

“Okay. Where? X” he replied, placing the same kiss at the end of his text that Dorian had started using on his.

“What about the Italian restaurant by the library? X”

“You’re just picking that because it’s near to you x”

“You’ve got me x”

“Still, I’m up for it. Be there at 8, look fancy x”

“I *always* look fancy x” 

This much was true, Dorian did always look fancy. Still, when Kaleb found him outside the restaurant he was somehow dressed even more smartly than usual. His shirt was black, with a purple silk tie and matching purple waistcoat. Kaleb had made the effort too - he wasn’t as inherently smart looking as Dorian always managed to be, but he wore a clean shirt and those very pointy shoes that looked as shiny as they did uncomfortable.

They went in, and the waiter brought them bread and oil and vinegar. Seeing his opportunity, Kaleb gestured at the breadsticks. “Shall I stuff those in my bag?”

Dorian tilted his head at him, quizzically. “Why on earth would you want to?”

“Because… on a date? Breadsticks? No?” Kaleb said.

“You’ve entirely lost me,” Dorian said.

“It’s - it’s a meme,” Kaleb said, feeling childish.

“I see,” Dorian said, sounding as if he didn’t see at all.

They both reached out for a piece of bread at the same time and their hands brushed. There was a tingle of electricity, and Kaleb ducked his head, blushing. When he looked up through his fringe he saw that Dorian had coloured, too. Though it was harder to tell on his dark skin, the tips of his ears had perceptibly reddened. The blush was endearing, and Kaleb found himself meeting Dorian’s eyes again and smiling at him.

Their food came and went, and the bill arrived. This caused a moment of friction - if Dorian were a woman, Kaleb would have paid for the date, but was that going to be emasculating? He’d never done this with a man before, he didn’t know what the rules were.

Thankfully, Dorian picked up the bill, expressing _his_ wish to pay for it, which then gave Kaleb the hint.

“No, no, I’m taking you out,” he said, “I’ll cover it.”

“Are you sure?” Dorian asked. “It’s no trouble.”

“Really - you can take me out next time, if you want. If you want there to be a next time,” he said, regretting how needy the second part sounded.

“Next time, then,” Dorian said, smiling.

* * *

After that day’s rehearsals, Kaleb was glad to be able to see Leliana and Blackwall for a while.

“How’ve you been?” asked Leliana. “Busy?”

“ _So_ busy,” Kaleb said. “Rehearsals are immense, I’m shattered by the end of the day. I haven’t been eating properly all week, except for dinner yesterday.”

“What was special about yesterday?” Blackwall asked.

“Oh, Dorian and I went to that Italian place by the library?” Kaleb said, unthinkingly.

“…alone?” Leliana asked.

“Yeah?” Kaleb said, feeling like he’d admitted something immoral.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with two men having dinner together in a friendly way,” Blackwall said, reasonably, sensing Kaleb’s sudden discomfort.

Leliana and Blackwall were his two closest friends. If he couldn’t say this to them, he didn’t know who he could say it to. He took a deep breath, and then a second, and they both looked him expectantly.

“It was more than friendly. I think,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“You think?” said Leliana, her face inscrutable.

“I mean we haven’t, you know,” he said.

“Had sex?” Blackwall offered.

“ _Kissed_ ,” said Kaleb, embarrassed.

“I see,” Leliana said gently. “Have you dated a man before?”

“No. I don’t even know if this is anything or if I’m just hoping that it is,” Kaleb admitted. “It’s all just in the way he _looks_ at me, you know? Or the casual touching. Little things like that.”

“I see. This isn’t Dorian’s usual style, I’ll be honest. From what he says at the society meet-ups he’s very wham-bam-thank-you-sir,” Leliana said.

“He could be treating Kaleb differently because he’s not out?” Blackwall suggested.

“I haven’t decided that I’m gay yet, you know. I’m not quite in a closet,” Kaleb said.

“Did you never suspect? It could, of course, be a one-off. Sexuality can be very fluid, you know,” Leliana said.

Kaleb thought about it for a moment. “I mean, I’ve fancied men from a distance before, I guess? But I always put that aside. I hoped that if I dated women I’d develop feelings for them and all that other stuff would just… go away. Besides, no man ever expressed an interest in me before Dorian, and who was I to rock the boat?”

“Maybe you need to rock the boat on occasion, Kaleb,” Blackwall said.

“Talk to him,” Leliana pressed. “If he is being slow with you, you can’t know until you ask.”

“Can we talk about something else, now?” Kaleb asked.

They obliged, and moved on to other topics of conversation. Kaleb didn’t really feel involved, though. He was trying to work out his next move.

* * *

The end of the week was nearly there. They’d started rehearsing on Sunday, and they were to be performing in two days time. Workshop week plays were always intense and full of pressure, but the whole thing had actually come together well. Everybody knew their words, even Sera, and all that was really left was to finalise the entrances and exits, as well as curtain call, before the last full day before Saturday's dress rehearsal and full performance.

Tickets had sold well, too, according to the box office at The House of Pavus. Kaleb had been expecting an audience consisting solely of friends and family of cast members - his parents were coming, too - but apparently quite a large number of the student population and of the general public were coming, too. He supposed this was the perk of using a real theatre rather than a university one.

Kaleb took a minute out of his day to text Dorian before the hour’s lunch break.

“I want to see you, are you free to come by the theatre for 12-ish? Meet me by the stage door X”

“Of course x” came the immediate reply.

When Dorian arrived, Kaleb took him by the hand, and led him round to the backstage area to where all the props and costumes were being kept. He had always loved the secret worlds behind theatres - most people only ever saw entrance halls and auditoriums, but the world behind the stage was enormous, with all the dressing rooms, and prop rooms, and walkways above the stage. It had made him feel lost when he was younger and experiencing it all for the first time, but now it was one of the places he felt most at home.

“Why are we here?” Dorian asked.

“I wanted some privacy away from all the cast’s prying eyes. And Varric’s. Mostly Varric’s,” he added, laughing. They were still holding hands, and Kaleb never wanted to break away.

“Do you have something to tell me?” Dorian asked.

“Not quite,” Kaleb said. They both looked at each other, and neither of them could say who was the first to move in towards the other, but their lips met in the middle for a kiss that Kaleb realised he’d been dearly waiting for. It was soft, and sweet, and it felt right in a way that Kaleb couldn’t remember anything feeling like that before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaleb is faced with an important decision.

Dorian returned to his room after the rehearsal, deep in thought. For the last two rehearsals he’d been seen by the others as being very pensive, and Varric even nicknamed him “Dreamy”.

First, he was worried about Dorian, but now he was worried about himself. Was he gay? Or did he just like Dorian? He’d practically said that he was to Leliana and Blackwall, but that didn’t make him certain enough to say it to anybody else.

He thought back to all his previous girlfriends. They’d all been nice enough, always very pretty, interested, interesting people. Kissing them had never made him feel the way he felt kissing Dorian. Kissing Dorian made him feel warm inside, a warmth that he felt all the way to the ends of his fingertips. He and Dorian kissed like they were getting to know each other. He’d never realised it could be more than just the awkward bumping together of two faces.

He thought of other intimacies he’d shared with women but never really felt anything for - cuddling, public displays of affection, sex. He imagined sharing those intimacies with Dorian, and his heart raced. Lying next to him, tracing lazy fingertips over his chest after the act, or holding his hand in public for everyone to see. It felt like there was a whole new world available to him, and it made him feel slightly giddy at the thought. Had he been missing out on all of this the whole time that he’d been having lacklustre relationships with people he didn’t care about?

Coming out, though. That was his sticking point. Leliana and Blackwell took it well - of course Leliana would, she was that way inclined herself, and Blackwell had been his best friend since joining university. But coming out publicly? To his _family_?

He didn’t know how his family would take it. His parents were that kind of upper class conservative, and he was their only son. He was meant to carry on the Trevelyan name, have little Trevelyan babies. He had never _wanted_ little Trevelyan babies, but he assumed that would happen at some point, along with his interest in women.

Dorian had done it, though. Dorian had split himself off from part of his family because he so strongly believed in doing it. Maybe Blackwall was right - he should follow Dorian’s example and rock the boat. He didn’t want to sneak around in secret, hiding Dorian backstage. That didn’t feel right to him.

* * *

That day’s rehearsal had just ended when Kaleb received a phone call. It was Mr Pavus.

“I’d like to speak to you privately,” Mr Pavus said, directly. “Do you know where my office is in the theatre?”

Kaleb said that he didn’t, but was given directions and went straight on his way.

He entered the office, and Mr Pavus gestured at the seat in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.” Kaleb sat down nervously, unsure why he had been summoned.

“You may be unaware that the entire theatre is fitted with CCTV cameras,” Mr Pavus said.

“Has someone been stealing? I’ll be sure to retrieve anything that was taken from the theatre, I promise,” Kaleb said. He immediately thought of Sera, which was possibly unfair. She had a slight reputation for pickpocketing, though he wasn’t sure how much of that was rumour and how much of that was fact.

“No, no,” Mr Pavus said, “it’s nothing like that. My concern is about you, actually.”

“About me? What is it that you think I’ve done?” Kaleb asked, confused. The rehearsals had been going well, and there hadn’t been any infighting or even much swearing, once his Grantaire had been reprimanded for his overly liberal use of the phrase ‘pigfucker’.

“I know you’ve been cavorting with my son,” Mr Pavus said, coldy. There was an expression of calm fury on his face that made Kaleb feel shaken. This was a man he regretted getting on the wrong side of. He couldn’t imagine how Dorian could stand up to this man, he felt like he was shrinking.

Kaleb was silent. If Mr Pavus really did have CCTV cameras, then there was no denying that he and Dorian had been kissing backstage. There was no excuse he could have made, no other reasons to be given.

“This will end,” Mr Pavus said simply.

“With all due respect,” Kaleb started, unsure how to continue. It was his and Dorian’s relationship, not anybody else’s. Dorian didn’t even live with his family anymore. It shouldn’t have been anybody else’s business. How was he to politely state that though?

“No,” Mr Pavus interrupted him. “It _will_ end, because if it doesn’t, I will shut down this play.”

“Mr Pavus, please- Kaleb said, horrified.

“It is my theatre, and I will do with it what I like. If I have to refund every single person their ticket, I shall. The keys are mine - I can lock the doors when I so choose,” he interrupted.

“But if you refund everybody their tickets we won’t have been able to afford what’s already happened - the set, the costumes, the rent here,” Kaleb said. The man couldn’t be serious, surely.

There was no humour or light in his face, however, when he said, “Then you understand why it is so important that this debauchery cease.”

Kaleb was defeated. It wasn’t their relationship or Mr Pavus’s comfort, it was that or hundreds of pounds worth of the university’s money, along with the efforts that the entire cast and crew had put into the show so far. Even if there was another theatre in the area, he couldn’t possibly get the next day as an availability. He had no other choice.

“Furthermore,” Mr Pavus said, “Dorian cannot know that this had anything to do with me.”

“I understand,” Kaleb said, hopelessly. “May I leave now?”

“You may,” said Mr Pavus, curtly.

* * *

Kaleb returned to his dorm room and lay face down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow to muffle the cry of frustration and anger he made. This was so fucking unfair. He’d only just found this whole new world with Dorian, fresh and new and ready for him, and he had it snatched away from him.

It would have been easier if literally anything else had torn them apart - but no, it was down to him to end things with Dorian, before they’d even started.

Did he do as Dorian’s father had asked, and not tell him? Or did he tell him, and trust him not to let him know? It was a lie versus risking the entire play. What could he even say? Could he stand there and tell Dorian that he didn’t feel for him? No, he couldn’t do that to him. He would have to tell him the truth, and hope that he would understand.

With a heavy heart, he left his room and headed over to the accommodation near the library.

“Dorian, I’m outside x” Kaleb texted, standing outside the building.

Dorian came to meet him, and his face fell when he saw how serious Kaleb looked. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Not here,” Kaleb said. “Upstairs.”

Dorian closed the bedroom door behind them, and stepped forward for a kiss, but Kaleb stepped back.

“Okay, now you really have to tell me what’s wrong,” Dorian said, concerned.

“After the rehearsal today, your father called me up to his office,” Kaleb said. He swallowed, unable to say the part that came next.

“Kaleb, whatever he said to you, it’s okay. I’m here,” Dorian said, taking his hands in his.

Kaleb took a deep breath. “He saw us together on the theatre’s CCTV. He told me it had to end, or he would shut down the play. And that if I told you, he would shut down the play.”

“You sacrificed your play? For me?” Dorian asked.

There was a drawn out deathly silence, and the truth dawned on Dorian, who dropped Kaleb’s hands.

“No,” Kaleb said, painfully. “I didn’t.”

“Oh,” Dorian said, half collapsing down onto the bed, as if all the air had left him.

When Dorian had been upset with Kaleb before, he’d been all fire, passion and anger. Now Kaleb thought he’d just seen the light slip away from Dorian’s eyes. He watched him shut down, entirely.

“We could still - in secret?” Kaleb offered, scared by Dorian’s reaction. He’d been prepared for shouting. This was far worse.

“No,” Dorian said quietly, staring at a spot on the floor away from Kaleb. “No, I won’t do that again. I won’t creep back into the closet for anybody, not for you, and certainly not for _him_.”

“Then this is goodbye, I suppose,” Kaleb said, equally as quietly.

“Goodbye, Kaleb,” Dorian agreed, his voice void of any emotion.

“Goodbye, Dorian.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The play finally performs.

Dorian had a few hours between the morning’s dress rehearsal and the evening’s performance, so he met up with Leliana and Blackwall. He was waiting for them at their usual cafe spot when they arrived.

“Kaleb,” Blackwall said once he caught sight of the man, “you look like somebody’s just murdered your puppy,”

“I feel like somebody’s just murdered my puppy, to be honest,” Kaleb replied, as the two sat down either side of him.

“Whatever is the matter?” Leliana asked.

He explained the whole situation to them.

“And you really think he would have shut down the play?” Leliana asked.

Kaleb thought of him trying to send Dorian away to a conversion camp in the US. The man was cruel and ruthless. “Yes, he would have.”

“Oh, Kaleb,” Leliana said, wrapping him in a hug. It reminded him of the hug he’d shared with Dorian the other day, when he was upset about his father. It was a less enveloping hug, Leliana being a much smaller person than Dorian, but it was comforting.

“It was a difficult situation,” Blackwall added.

Kaleb gave the two of them half a smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. He kept remembering how empty Dorian had looked when he left him. Dorian couldn’t even look at him after he found out what he’d done. He supposed he deserved to feel bad about what had happened, but knowing that he’d earned it didn’t make him feel any better.

* * *

The final performance came, and it went well. The applause for Josephine in particular was tremendous, but they all performed to a much higher standard than Kaleb had been expecting. His Grantaire even turned up sober, and managed to do all the lovelorn staring at Enjolras without hiccuping, and his ex-girlfriend managed to perform ‘On My Own’ without shooting daggers at him this time. This may, in retrospect, have been because he was standing in the wings rather than sitting in the audience.

After the actors all did their curtain call, it was time for he and Varric to take the stage to direct the applause towards the band and the technicians, who were as invaluable a part of the production as the cast were. Then Varric stepped forward to make a speech - Kaleb suddenly remembered closing night traditions slightly too late. He had nothing prepared.

Varric took his own sweet time, being a man who loved the sound of his own voice, and this gave Kaleb enough time to think on his feet and make a few rudimentary mental notes about what to say.

He started with the usual - thanks for the cast and crew, speaking about what an honour and a privilege it had been, how lovely the cast were to work with, and how much he’d enjoyed his time. Then he moved on to what was a less conventional part of the producer’s closing night speech.

“Of course,” he said, “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my muse, Dorian Pavus.

“This week has, as you would expect, been very high pressure and intense for all of us, and he was always there for me, even through… difficulties.

“Audience, I dated him,” he added, hoping that a theatre crowd would be familiar with a Jane Eyre reference. He’d half expected a gasp of shock and awe from the crowd, but there was no real reaction that he could tell. They all could have fainted in their seats for all he knew, though, the stage lights were so bright that it was impossible to make out any individual features of any audience member. He knew his parents were in there, somewhere, and while this wasn’t the most ideal way to come out, he was proud to be finally rocking the boat.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway - thank you all for coming. I hope you’ve all enjoyed yourselves watching this production of Les Miserables as much as I did producing it. Good night, and get home safe.”

The curtain fell to rapturous applause, and he immediately felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was a text from Leliana.

“Dorian’s here, and he wants to see you.”

Kaleb’s heart leapt into his chest. Had Dorian just arrived? Or had he watched the play? Had he heard what he’d said?

“Tell him to meet me in the wings, he’ll know how to get there from backstage.”

The cast had all disappeared into the dressing rooms to get rid of their microphone packs and get changed into their normal clothes to go home in, and Varric had gone directly to the theatre’s bar, so the wings were empty. Kaleb paced up and down until he heard his name spoken in the darkness.

“Kaleb,” Dorian said, gently. “I heard what you said.”

“Okay,” Kaleb said, evenly. “What did you think?”

“It was very brave of you, I thought,” Dorian said. “Did Leliana tell you I was going to be in the audience?”

“No,” Kaleb said, honestly. “I had no idea until she texted me after the performance.”

“I believe you. Thank-you.”

“No problem,” said Kaleb, unsure if Dorian could see him smiling at him in the low light.

“Excellent play, by the way. My replacement was very good,” Dorian said, humorously.

“Not half as handsome,” Kaleb said, stepping towards Dorian and hoping he was doing the right thing. He put his hand on Dorian’s waist, and stepped in for a kiss.

The kiss was reciprocated, and Dorian wrapped his arms around Kaleb. What started off as an apology turned into a need, and the kiss grew more passionate. They broke apart, breathing a little harder than usual.

“I don’t want to hide you backstage,” Kaleb said earnestly.

“Nothing bad can happen now, you know. Your play has run. If you wanted to, we could,” Dorian said.

“I do want to,” Kaleb said, before kissing him once more.

They walked together hand in hand to the theatre’s bar, where Leliana, Blackwall and Varric awaited them. Varric raised his eyebrows at the sight of the hand holding, but said nothing untoward, and they spent the rest of the evening together, drinking with the cast and crew to celebrate the week they’d had - and between them, to celebrate the two of them.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Kaleb, one year later.

“I love you,” Dorian said.

“I know,” said Kaleb, “I love you too.”

They were lying together in bed that evening, while Kaleb rested his head on Dorian’s chest and lazily traced his fingers over his body. “Happy anniversary,” he said. 

“A whole year,” Dorian added, kissing the top of Kaleb’s head. “You know, you’ve ruined my reputation. They used to consider me a heartbreaker, you know.”

“I do know. Leliana warned me about you,” Kaleb said, laughing. “She also thought I had a ritual of ending my relationships at four months, so congrats on tripling that.”

“I’m very pleased,” Dorian said.

Kaleb looked past Dorian to the pinboard on the wall. It was full of photographs. His favourite one was one of the two of them along with his parents – they’d accepted Dorian with open arms, and treated him like a second son. While initially surprised by the public way Kaleb had decided to announce his new relationship, they reassured him that the most important thing to them was that he was happy. There was also promotional material for the Autumn play that had just passed - Mr Pavus had granted them the use of the theatre for another year.

“Nothing has felt more right than this past year with you, you know. I spent so much time hiding and pretending, doing what I thought would make other people happy. Now I’m happy, and it’s because of you,” Kaleb said, looking up at his love in earnest.

Dorian smiled at him, and kissed the top of his head again in response.

Kaleb shifted up the bed so he and Dorian were level, and put one hand on Dorian’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. They kissed, and it was as sweet and soft as their first. They stayed, faces close, looking into each other’s eyes with love. Then, after one last kiss, Kaleb moved back to lie next to Dorian, and there they fell into a blissful sleep, wrapped around each other.

**Author's Note:**

> The end! I hope you enjoyed reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it. Massive shoutout to [lilmsmoonstruck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmsmoonstruck/pseuds/lilmsmoonstruck) for being an excellent editor.


End file.
